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Time and Space 01
This is chapter 1: I Move to London of Miramc22's fan fiction, Time and Space. ---- It's been two days. And it was the funniest joke ever as I tried to hold back my tears as the cab pulled away from the large apartment building I'd been living in for seventeen years of my life. The cab was taking us to the LaGuardia airport in New York. My dad was serious. We were moving to London. We were moving 3,454 miles away from my current home. He was married to some fancy British lady who believed that tea was an actual meal of the day. Oh my God, tea was going to be a meal of the day. So why was I still waiting for my dad to say that it was all a joke? Because it was the truth. Why would he just lie to me like that after neglecting me for eight years? These same thoughts swarmed my head as we entered the airport and boarded the plane. "Elizabeth, cheer up. London is going to be fine. Sarah's really great, and she even has two kids of her own. They're even your age! One boy and one girl. Their names are James and Madison, and I know that you'll love them," dad says, grinning at me. I didn't like how much he was using my name. Like it was reassuring for me. It wasn't. "Dad, how long have you been married?" I ask. Dad looked guilty, and he avoided looking at me. "A year," he says so quietly I barely heard him. But I did. And those two words brought my heart into my stomach and tears to my eyes. "You've been married for a year, and you didn't tell me?" I demand. "Didn't tell your daughter that you've been married to some British woman for a year?" I ask, ready to run off of the plane, hysterical. "Elizabeth, don't say it like that," dad says, shifting in the leather plane seat. "What, that I'm your daughter or that it should be okay to be secretly married? When ''was your wedding? ''Where was your wedding? I don't know, I wasn't there. Were Madison and James there? Were they, dad, were they?" I ask, my nails digging into the plane seat like it was the only think keeping me sane. "They were there. It was in London, at this nice little church. It'll be great, Elizabeth. Trust me on this one. Do this for me, please," he says, still not looking directly at me. But when he asked me to do it for him, I immediately dropped it. It was the least I could do, after all. My emotions totally changed: suddenly I realized that this could be good. Moving was good. Dad said so. This was okay. "Yeah, dad," I say. He opened his mouth to speak, but it closed as the plane took off into my new life. ---- I slept on the plane until it landed. Changing time zones was a lot to get used to, especially permanently. My body was sore as the plane came to a stop. I unbuckled my seat and stretched myself out. My bones creaked and cracked. I felt my makeup-less face. It felt tired, stiff, and dried-out with tears. I took my carry-on bags and filed out of the plane with my dad. London was rainy. It's kind of stereotypical, but it was pouring, and pouring heavily. The rain dumped down outside like pouring water out of a bucket. Dad and I didn't bring umbrellas, so once we took our bags, we ran outside and made it into a cab, completely soaked. The cab would take us to the apartment, and I was terrified. But my dad said that it would be okay, didn't he? I reminded myself that it was okay. Dad hadn't said anything to me since New York. Continents and oceans stood apart our last words. I smiled quickly at him, but he imemdialtey turned his head to the rain-stained window of the cab. But that was okay. Everything was okay. I felt so pressued as the cab came to a stop at the apartment building. What was I going to say? What was I going to do? What was I supposed to do? Would she be nice? Would she be young? Would she be old? Who was she, and what would she be? What would I call her? Mom? Mommy? Stepmom? Ms. Sarah? Sarah? We made a run for the building as the rain poured down on the two of us. The cab driver helped us with our bags, and the rain didn't seem to bother him. Dad gave him a tip as we entered the building. It was tall, wide, and run-down. It was about four stories high, and I soon learned that there were four apartment rooms on each floor. Dad and I boarded the elevator with our heavy luggage. It felt morelike a vacation, if this was what a vacation was like. The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and we went to the door marked 3-B. Dad knocked. "Arthur!" A London voice exclaimed as it grabbed my dad into a passionate kiss. I stood there, dumb, as I watched a beautiful woman make out with my father. She was tall, skinny, and pale. As she broke away from the kiss, I noted that she had dark, black hair, olive brown eyes, and very high cheekbones. She looked like a model. She smiled at him and her eyes moved to me. "Hi," I say, like it was all I knew to say. "Arthur, is that your daughter?" Sarah asked. "Yes, this is Elizabeth," Dad says, glancing at me but returning his attention to the woman seconds after. She walked around me distastefully, like she was studying me. I hated the feeling. "She doesn't look like it," Sarah says, making a face. I wanted to protest, but it was okay: everything would be all right. And it was true, I looked nothing like my dad. I was a mirror image of my mom, and people mistook us for the same person all the time: we both had light, blonde hair, blue-gray eyes, pale skin, a very skinny body, and a height of 5'10". Or at least I am now what Mom used to be. My father had light, red hair, which never seemed to age, a long face, and green eyes. We got strange looks when people found out that we were related. "She takes after her mom," Dad says. "Well, what kinda mother was she?" Sarah asks, still studying me. "She was a great mom. Now, I don't mind how I look, but you will never, ever insult my mother in front of me and live to tell the tale," I say, an adrenaline of anger coursing throughout me. Sarah gasped and immediately I started gasping, too. For air. "What a brat! Arthur, I will not be living with her!" Sarah says, pouting. I doubled over, still gasping. My stomach ached terribly, and I was extremely shocked. Sarah just ''punched ''me. "Well..." Dad looked at me like it ''was ''an option to get rid of me. "I'm the brat? You just punched me! You are the most immature adult I've ever met!" I say, outraged, and only to be earned with a slap in the face. "Maybe you ''should ''sleep outside. Prove your worth to me, and don't touch anything once you go inside," Sarah says. My cheek stung a bright red color, and I fought back tears. Everything was okay. I was okay. Dad said so. "What? Are you a queen?" I shouted back. I don't know why I did. I just got a slap on the cheek again. "Yes. This is my castle and you will respect it. You're just a worthless maid here, and that's all you'll ever be. Didn't your mummy ever teach you manners?" Sarah taunted. That was absolutely immature of her to say. Surely, my dad had to have told her about what happened to his first wife. I fought the tears as I pushed my luggage through the narrow doorway. Everything was going to be okay. So why was I crying? Category:Time and Space Category:Time and Space Chapter